


She Watches

by Saziikins



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saziikins/pseuds/Saziikins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally watches Greg and Sherlock through the years. And although her boss could forgive Sherlock anything, she could never do the same. </p>
<p>But still, she watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Watches

**Author's Note:**

> For #12DaysSherstrade, and for an anon prompt which said: I dunno if this counts as a whole prompt, but maybe some kind of outsider pov? Sally maybe?
> 
> This is another of my takes on canonically sad-Lestrade from season three. I think I need to write something happier tomorrow, for all our sakes!

There was nothing in the world that frightened her more than seeing her boss become detached. Her boss, her steady, warm, reliable boss, was a man who could erase everyone’s troubles. He took the world on his shoulders, and carried burdens as though they were as light as feathers. He was the strongest man she knew. 

But she knew detachment when she saw it. She knew when she was being pushed away, when someone didn’t want her to see that everything was not okay. 

And, as with everything, it began and ended with Sherlock Holmes. 

Oh, she had never been a fan of his. She had always been vocal about that. But her boss, her steadfast, dependable boss, had never broken the rules - and the law - before Sherlock. It had taken her more than two years to accept he would never go away. And eventually she had learned to tolerate him. She listened when he spoke at crime scenes, allowed him to berate her, because his presence made her a better officer. 

She hated his ego, yes, and perhaps there was some jealousy there. But there was also some admiration, when she watched their statistics improve. Begrudging though it was, she acknowledged Sherlock was better working with them than leaving them to their business. 

And then there was that night when Sherlock was faced with a choice. To run after the criminal or stay with her boss while he lay bleeding on the ground. 

Greg Lestrade may have forgiven him for leaving, but Sally never could. 

Her boss had taken her under his wing, and made her feel competent. He praised her, taught her, showed his pride in her in all the ways he could. He sung her praises to their superiors. He nominated her for policing awards, was first to thank her for her hard work after a successful conviction. 

He was her boss. Her friend. 

Sherlock never went away, and Greg forgave and forgave his every mistake. And he forgave Sally too, for all the things she said, for all the things she did, which had led up to Sherlock’s suicide. He forgave her. She did not forgive herself. 

Two years. For two years, she lost track of the tears she cried. She found solace in drunken nights in clubs and with men whose names she forgot and faces which were blurred in her memory. 

And then Sherlock returned, the ghost became corporeal, devil made flesh. 

She remembered that look on her boss’ face on the day Sherlock revealed himself. One minute, eyes sparkling, smile wide, as though he had seen heaven and knew he would make it there. But it was the expression seconds later that stayed with her and broke her heart. That of a man who was sure he had failed. 

And no words of comfort, no arm around his shoulders, seemed to bring him back from that point. 

He grew detached. He didn’t allow her in after that, for reasons she could not understand. But she knew she was not alone in that. He shut out everyone. All of them. Even _him_. And that frightened her most of all. Because down the years, she was sure she had seen it all when it came to Greg and Sherlock. 

She had seen them toss barbed insults across a crime scene, seen Greg so angry he pushed Sherlock against a police car and cuffed him. She had seen Sherlock rip Greg to shreds, pulling his life apart and criticising his every quality. She had seen Greg give as good as he got. 

She had seen Greg carry a limp and ill Sherlock from a derelict house, wrap a blanket around him and then hold him in his arms for the whole journey home. She had seen Sherlock’s anguish as her boss lay in a hospital bed post-surgery. She had seen him walk away as soon as Greg woke up, him never knowing he had been there every hour, hanging on to every beat of his heart. 

She had seen Greg cry for Sherlock Holmes, watched him salvage his almost dead career, surviving and working in his memory. 

She had seen her boss the day they had reunited. And for the first time, she saw her boss give up on him. 

She watched the months roll by, as her boss became detached and Sherlock Holmes got lost inside his own robotics. Sherlock didn’t come by their crime scenes so often. “He has his own cases,” Greg told her as he forced a smile, one that never lasted.

She met Greg in the pub one afternoon. “Sherlock is leaving for good,” was all he had told her. “And yes,” he admitted, “I could use some company.”

She had walked in and joined him, moments after that video had aired across the whole of London. They spent six days chasing nightmares, seeking answers. 

At three in the morning, the Yard down to a depleted staff, she and her boss stood in an empty office, staring out across London. 

The door opened. “We need to talk,” Sherlock murmured. “Donovan?”

Without a word, she left them alone. But she stayed stood beside the door and she watched them through the window as they talked, and talked, and talked.

A dam broke. 

Her boss’ shoulders shook. 

She saw Sherlock Holmes hold her boss that day. She saw him take his face in his hands, watched Sherlock speak, determination blazing in his eyes. She stood and stayed, and watched as they clung onto one another, as though the world might end, but if it did, it was going to end with them together ‘til the end. 

Sherlock had been left with a choice that night. To leave Greg as a shell, a broken and detached man. Or to hold him, comfort him, stay with him. 

He made the right decision that night. 

And somehow she found the strength to forgive him.


End file.
